Yesterday was the first time in a while when it hurt so bad I just wanted to die. I spent the morning curled up in a ball on the floor screaming and crying till I puked. More followed in the afternoon. I scared my wife and children. It was a mess.

I thought I had begun to see daylight, but now I realize this shit is deeper than I thought, and its not going to be over till its over. Its just the way it is and I have to get thru it, no matter what.

If I had been 13 and raped, in another time and place. If I could have been allowed to feel the pain and grieve the loss of my childhood then. If I had had the support of my family and maybe a child therapist then. Maybe I wouldn't have to go thru this now. But here I am. Sober. Feeling the pain for the first time. Grieving for the first time. And just so damn tired of it.

_________________________
I will remember youWill you remember me?Don't let your life pass you byWeep not for the memoriesSarah McLachlan

You have much to be grateful for - you're married and have a family. A lot of survivors never get that opportunity to express their love this way. You're also sober.

Yeah, the pain sucks. It's horrific. I hate it, too. We don't deserve it, but we're forced to heal through it. I'm learning a powerful lesson about practicing gratitude on the things I feel the most pain and worry about. It helps me to stay focused and centered on the choice I made to heal.

Sounds like you're already doing that. I hope you see that. I do. I'm proud of you.

I thought I had begun to see daylight, but now I realize this shit is deeper than I thought, and its not going to be over till its over. Its just the way it is and I have to get thru it, no matter what.

If I had been 13 and raped, in another time and place. If I could have been allowed to feel the pain and grieve the loss of my childhood then. If I had had the support of my family and maybe a child therapist then. Maybe I wouldn't have to go thru this now. But here I am. Sober. Feeling the pain for the first time. Grieving for the first time. And just so damn tired of it.

This is exactly where I am at man, It is shit, I know. I am feeling it right now! I only wish my parents had noticed it when I was little, god knows I tried to tell them with my acting out, but then again my behaviour was challenging waaay before my sexual abuse started. Sober is very difficult for me at the minute but managing, just. Anyway before I hijack your thread! Just wanted to say that I can directly relate.

All the best

Oz

Edited by Unknown1 (10/03/1204:44 PM)

_________________________The virtue of mental anguish... is the provision of strength and resilience each time clarity's reclaimed. For my success, I owe it all, to that which stands in my way.

I told my parents part of the abuse. I was interrogated by a detective and James was sentenced to a year or so in juvenile detention. He was 14 or 15 at the time. I visited regularly with a child therapist for nearly 6 months. During all of this, I never revealed the extent of the abuse and kept 90% of it secret. Then, near my 22nd birthday it call came out.

It wasn't until this past February that I decided to face all of those feelings. And you know what, it still hurt like hell. I still cried myself to sleep. We all hurt, all of us. You are healing my friend. Let the pain out. It has been in there for too long. Heal well brother.

I am struggling with acceptance that I have to accept it as a loss. My parents dismissed it. So I certainly didn't go to them with other abusers. It has taken me years in therapy to accept that my participation did not make me complicit. I did not prostitute myself because I did not have choices. I was 37 when I accepted it had been incest. I WAS 42 before I got sober, I was 52 when I finished caring for my elderly parents. I was 45 when I aSKED MY WIFE TO TAKE DOWN A PHOTO THat was taken when I was nude at my mother's direction when I was 12. Of course she refused.

The pain is overwhelming so I try to avoid crying. It took me a long time to accept that if the wATER FROM MY eyes was running down my cheeks then I was crying. When I fist cried all I could think was my father yelling, "If you don't stop crying, I will give you something to cry about"

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